Hope is a Four Letter Word
by Phiter
Summary: Takes place three years after the show. Emma, now a college student, is struggling and in need of her friends.
1. Chapter 1

"I'm handing back your midterms. Overall they were very good. As soon as you get yours back, you're free to leave. Remember there's a quiz on Monday. Have a good weekend." 

With that dismissal the math professor began returning test papers and students began packing up. The linear algebra class wasn't large, maybe 20 students, but Emma felt it took forever for the professor to return her paper. She nervously turned the test over so she could see her grade. She expected a good grade; after all, she was an excellent student, and math was one of her stronger subjects.

Emma was shocked to see a large red "B-" written at the top of her test. What the heck? B-? "No, that can't be right," she thought. "I simply don't get Bs." But there was no denying it. The bright crimson grade began to swim as her eyes filled with tears. She had to get out of there.

Emma quickly made her way to the restroom. Good, it was empty. Emma splashed some water on her face, dried her tears, and tried her best to look like someone who hadn't just cried. It worked – a little bit. She succeeded in looking like someone who had cried but didn't want anyone to know about it, which was true.

She glanced at her watch. She had literature class in 10 minutes on the other side of the quad. If she rushed she could still make it on time. She briefly considered skipping lit, but again, she simply wasn't the kind of student who skipped classes. So she put on her happy face and tried her best to put the bad grade out of her head.

"Number two. Give a one sentence description of Crusoe's shovel." That was what the English professor was saying as Emma, trying to draw no attention, sneaked into class. "Nice of you to join us, Ms. Chota. I trust you will partake in the remainder of the pop quiz."

"Crap," Emma thought to herself. Of all the days to be one or two measly minutes late, she had to do so on a pop quiz day. Perfect.

With lightning speed Emma pulled a pen and paper from her pack. Though flustered, she managed to answer the remaining questions. Being the diligent student she was, she had done all the required reading, plus a little extra (or course). She hoped missing one question wasn't enough to ruin her grade on the quiz.

Emma listened and took notes during the lecture on Robinson Crusoe, Friday, and cannibalism. Though not particularly interested in the topic (or the book for that matter), she did her best to follow along and digest the professor's lecture.

Next up was lunch. Emma walked to the cafeteria in the student union. She already knew what she was having for lunch because she ate the same thing almost every day, and lunch was a cup of chicken noodle soup with four baby carrots.

Emma swiftly dodged the hungry college students getting wraps, pizza, chicken nuggets, and fries. She was amazed they could eat such foods with utter capriciousness.

She arrived at the soup bar and stopped suddenly. There was no soup. There was no soup at the soup bar! What the heck? WHY WAS THERE NO SOUP AT THE SOUP BAR? Did they not understand how important it was for her to have her soup for lunch? Did they not understand how NOT HAVING SOUP screwed with her whole day? She tracked down a cafeteria worker and practically yelled, "Why is there no soup?"

The worker replied nonchalantly, "No soup? Oh, yeah, the soup warmer is broken. It'll be a few days before it's fixed."

This was UNACCEPTABLE. Emma stomped off. "A bad midterm, a surprise quiz I almost missed, and now no soup. Could this day get any worse?" She was feeling rattled and uneven from the day's events. She decided to find solace in one of her favorite places, the campus library. She nodded a greeting to the man behind the front desk. Though she didn't know his name, she saw him nearly every day and found him friendly.

Emma expertly navigated the stacks upon stacks of books to "her" table and gratefully sank into a chair. "What a day," she muttered. She felt like she was barely hanging on during a _good_ day. Today was proving too much.

She had a little over an hour until Latin, her last class of the day. She decided to look over her lin alg midterm and figure out what she did wrong. It took a few minutes to decipher the professor's cryptic notes, but Emma figured out she had messed up one proof by neglecting to state that bases must be linearly independent, and the prof deducted several point on another problem because her spanning set was not linearly independent. Two relatively minor mistakes, but they were enough to give her pause. Maybe a minor in math wasn't for her after all. Doubt, her old friend, sensed an opening and slyly crawled in.

After Latin, which thankfully was nice and predictable, Emma headed back to her dorm room. On the way, her cell rang. Her mother. Great. She debated letting her voicemail pick up but knew her mother would persist until the call was answered. "Hey, Mom," Emma said.

"Hi, Sweetie. How are you? How were your classes today?"

"Fine," Emma said, wanting to avoid a long conversation.

"Good. Listen, your dad and I thought it would be fun to drive down with Finn and take you out to dinner tomorrow. Your roommate or another friend could come, too."

A family dinner? Just the thought of having to eat at a restaurant with her parents made her nervous. Emma didn't need additional torture after the day she'd had. "Oh, Mom, that's really kind of you to offer, but I have a bunch of studying to do this weekend, and I just don't have time to go out. I'm sorry. Maybe another weekend?" Emma hoped her mom wouldn't press the issue. She didn't want to make up lies, but she would if necessary.

"Honey, really? You can't spare a few hours for your family?"

Part of Emma wanted nothing more than to see and hug her family, to be taken care of for a bit, to put aside all the worry of school and life. But a bigger part of her didn't want her mom to see how thin she'd gotten again, how she didn't have a friend to invite to dinner, how small and sad her college world was. She vowed right there to start eating more, to make friends, and to be more social so seeing her family over Christmas wouldn't be excruciating.

"Really, Mom, I'm sorry. I just need to buckle down and study this weekend. I'll see you guys another time. Promise," Emma said convincingly.

"Okay, Sweetie. I love you. Be good."

"Bye, Mom." Emma hung up the phone and exhaled. A bad grade, a pop quiz, no soup, and a near-miss visit from her family. What next?


	2. Chapter 2

Emma continued walking to her dorm, avoiding eye contact with everyone she passed. Social contact was so overrated, anyway. Upon entering her dorm room, she found her roommate, Julia, packing her overnight bag. Julia was the one person on campus she regularly talked with, and that was mostly because of their shared proximity. "Away game this weekend?" Emma asked the soccer player.

"Yep," Julia nodded, stuffing a shirt into her already overflowing bag. "I've got one more week 'til I'm cleared to play, but I like going to the games and supporting the team."

"Only one more week? That's great. Your physical therapy must be going well," Emma said, putting her bag on her desk and flopping on her bed.

"Yes, it's going really well. My ACL is healed, the incision is healed, and I have almost all my strength back in that leg. It's been a rough road, but the end is in sight."

"Glad to hear it," Emma said sincerely. She knew how difficult Julia's injury had been for her.

"Alright, I'm outta here. Have a good weekend, Emma. I'll see you Sunday afternoon," Julia said, balancing her overnight bag and her backpack on her shoulders. "Don't study too hard," she added with a mock adult tone.

"Bye, Julia. Don't worry, I'll get out some," Emma said. "As long as 'getting out' includes walking to the library," she said with a laugh.

As Julia closed the door, she gave Emma a withering look, indicating that no, going to the library most certainly DID NOT count as getting out.

With her roommate gone, Emma curled up in her bed, alone at last. Her weekend of studying, thinking about food, and more studying stretched ahead, like an endless horizon of blah.

Emma rolled on her back and considered what to do next. She needed to study for that lin alg quiz. It was important she do well in light of her dismal midterm grade. She had some reading and response questions for lit, and of course there was Latin homework. _Semper_ Latin homework.

But first maybe some food. Her breakfast of a hard boiled egg had been a very long time ago, and thanks to the stupid soup warmers, she missed lunch. While she didn't exactly mind skipping a meal, she knew she studied and functioned better when she had a little food in her. She briefly contemplated returning to the caf, but, ugh, all those people. She might have to actually _talk_ to someone. Then Emma remembered some peanut butter crackers she had hidden in her closet. Those would work. She ferreted them out from under some pants and ate two before checking the nutrition facts. Three grams of fat and 64 calories? WHAT? As if her day hadn't been sucky enough.

Emma paced around her tiny room, debating what to do. The events of the day plus these unexpectedly calorie-laden crackers had her in a near panic. Purging was out. That had ended badly last time. Plus, there was no such thing as privacy when you shared a bathroom with 30 other girls. She could go to the campus gym and work off the unwanted calories.

No, wait. She had a revolutionary idea. She could do nothing. She could keep the crackers in her and let them nourish her. She could throw caution to the wind, be adventurous, and DO NOTHING. After settling on this idea, Emma felt proud. She felt strong. Usually she derived personal strength from NOT eating, from being stronger than food and dominant over her body's physical needs. But this time Emma felt powerful from the simple – yet brave – act of eating. She would be healthy when she went home at the end of the semester, she just knew it.

Her feeling of well-being didn't last long, however. By 10:00 pm, after a lot of studying and a little TV, Emma was feeling, well, fat. Not so much physically fat, but mentally fat, if that could be a thing. She paced her room again, back and forth, back and forth, while rubbing her hands on her flat stomach. She could practically feel the crackers in there, and they were taunting her.

Emma decided to execute her earlier idea of going to the gym. She scanned the gym's hours on her "Guide to Campus Life" flyer. 9:00 pm. The gym had closed an hour ago. What kind of college gym closes at 9 pm on a Friday? Of course, most college kids were preparing to go out at 9 pm on a Friday, but Emma, not having a social life, didn't realize this.

Okay, new plan. What else could she do? Going for a run was out, seeing as how it was late at night. An online workout video would have to do.

Two sweaty hours later Emma sank to the floor. It's a good thing Julia was gone with the soccer team. In general, late night workouts and roommates don't mix.

Logically Emma knew she had burned more than enough calories to atone for the crackers. But she still felt guilty, like she had done something naughty. So much for turning over a new leaf.

She started crying. Why was life so difficult? School was difficult. Making friends was difficult. And eating was damn near impossible.

She wished she had a friend to talk to. Someone to tell her it was going to be all right. Someone who wouldn't judge her. Someone who understood her, even if just a little bit. Julia was the closest thing she had to a friend, and she was away. Finn? No. She didn't was to burden her sister with her problems. Her therapist? Gosh, no. She'd want to talk this to death. Sadly, she realized that she had nobody.

Emma sat up. What about Leo? He knew her situation. He wouldn't judge her. She hadn't talked to him in ages, though. Not since Jordi. Yes. Leo. Emma quickly called him. He answered on the sixth ring, just when she was about to hang up.

"Hello?" he half shouted. There was a lot of background noise.

"Leo?" Emma said uncertainly.

"Hey, Em! Hang on, lemme go somewhere quiet."

Several seconds later she heard a door close and Leo said, "There. Emma! Nice to hear from you. To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"I can tell you're busy. I don't want to interrupt your night. Sorry I called." Emma started to hang up.

"Wait! Em - don't be silly. I'm glad you called. You've been on my mind lately. How's everything going?"

"Fine," Emma answered automatically, politely. "How's everything with you?"

"Great. College life is pretty awesome. It's a shame those pesky classes interfere."

Emma gave a little chuckle. "Yeah. Pesky classes. Look, Leo, I really don't want to take time from your party. We can talk another day," Emma said, feeling pushy for calling so late.

"Em, c'mon. You called me. You must have a reason. Let's talk, alright?" he said kindly.

"Alright," Emma agreed slowly. Then she started crying again. She couldn't help it. He was being so nice, and her day had been so crappy, and she was just so tired of doing things on her own.

"Emma? Are you crying? What's wrong? What happened? Where are you?" Leo felt a slight panic, correctly sensing that the intentions behind the phone call were less social than emergent.

Emma cried even harder at his concern. "My dorm," she managed to get out.

"Text me your dorm and room number," he instructed. "I'm on my way."

"Doubtful, party boy," Emma thought, but she did as told, and then curled up into a ball on the floor. She was sweaty and gross from working out. She was disgusted with and disappointed in herself for her poor math midterm, not having any friends, eating those damn crackers,... The list went on and on. And she was tired. So very, very tired. Of everything. Of thinking all the damn time. Should she eat? How much should she eat? Did she eat too much? Did she study enough? Was that paper her best work? Could she do better? Could she be thinner, smarter, have better grades, be more successful, achieve more, be more in control? She was sick of all the static, the intrusive thoughts, the noise. She needed quiet. She needed a break.


	3. Chapter 3

She tried to sleep for a bit, but her brain wouldn't shut off. Then with a flash Emma knew what she had to do. She pushed herself off the floor and scanned Julia's side of the room. She saw what she wanted. She quickly grabbed the small bottle off Julia's desk and scanned the label. "Hydrocodone, 7.5 mg. Take every 6 hours for pain." She shook the bottle. Perfect. Several pills left. "Thanks for being such a champ and saving me some, Jules," Emma muttered to herself.

She was startled by a knock at her door. Leo? He actually came. Damn. His presence would ruin everything. She looked at the bottle in her hands. She didn't know what to do with the pills. She looked around but couldn't think of a quick hiding place. She tucked the bottle into the back of her waistband.

She tentatively opened the door a bit. "Hey," she softly greeted Leo.

"Hey, yourself," Leo said warmly, gently pushing his way in. "You sounded really upset on the phone. What's going on?" Emma couldn't manage to say anything. She shrugged her shoulders instead.

"Do you want to talk?"

Another shrug.

Leo decided to switch tactics and started some small talk. "Nice room. Does your roommate play soccer?" he asked, indicating Julia's many soccer posters on her side of the room.

Emma collected herself enough to speak. "Yeah. She's a great player. She's away at a game right now."

"Nice. What team are they playing?" he continued, moving towards Emma's desk.

Emma cut in. "Leo, why are you here? We haven't spoken in, what, a year? I called you at midnight crying, and you dropped everything – left a party – and rushed over here?" Emma couldn't understand why he was being so _nice_.

"Em, you were clearly upset when you called me. I'm not going to ignore that, no matter how long it's been since we last talked. You're my friend, simple as that. You would do the same for me, I'm sure."

"I don't know what I did to deserve a friend like you," Emma said tearfully.

Leo moved closer to her and embraced her in a tight hug. He thought, "She's even smaller than last time I saw her."

As she returned his hug, he again asked, "So, want to talk about anything?" She stiffened. "Or not. We could watch a move, or listen to music, or play bingo. I know you're a superb bingo player," he joked, trying to lighten the mood.

They let go from their hug and Emma took a step back. Just then the pill bottle slipped from her pants. "Dammit," she whispered. She tried to reach it first, but Leo was quicker.

Leo studied the bottle's label before asking, "What are these? They aren't yours."

"No, you're right. They're Julia's. I...I was cleaning up a bit in here – you know how messy dorm rooms can get – and I found the bottle under her bed, and I was going to put it in her closet, but then you knocked, so I put them in my pocket..." Emma rambled, trying to sound convincing but failing.

Leo took in the scene: Emma's frail body, her tear-stained face, the late night call for help, the pills. He knew what the pieces added to.

"Em," he said carefully, tucking the pills in his pants pocket, "were you thinking about taking these pills?" He slowly took her arm and led her to the edge of her bed, where they both sat.

Emma thought. Should she tell Leo the truth, the whole sordid truth of her miserable existence? Or should she lie? She was so good at lying. It was one of the things she did best.

"Are you?" he asked again gently. "It's okay, you can talk to me."

Emma then felt an intense rush of relief overcome her. She cried even harder. She couldn't get the word "yes" out – that was too difficult – but she managed to nod her head.

Leo didn't say anything; he just pulled her into a hug. Emma sat there, allowing Leo to comfort her. It felt really good to unload her burden on someone, someone who understood her, someone who wouldn't condemn her.

Emma wiped her tears and straightened up. "I don't want to die. I just don't want to live like this." There. Truth.

"Oh, Em," Leo said. He took her hand. The two sat in silence for a while.

"Okay. How do we fix this?" Leo said, breaking the silence.

"I don't know. But I know I can't do it by myself."

"Of course not. And you don't have to. I'm here. Your sister will support you, and your parents, and your friends."

"I don't have any friends."

"You're a Red Bander, aren't you? You always have friends."

Emma attempted a shaky smile. "Yeah, I guess I do."

They sat in silence a while longer. "I understand if you want to get back to your party," Emma said.

"What? Are you crazy?"

Emma raised her eyebrows at Leo.

"Okay, that was insensitive. I apologize," Leo said sincerely. "What I meant to say was of course I'm staying, that is, if you want me to."

"Yeah, that would be nice. I don't want to be alone."

The two friends laid down on Emma's narrow dorm bed, Emma's head resting on Leo's shoulder. Leo tenderly stroked her hair.

"Please be okay, Emma. Please," he thought, as the two fell asleep.


	4. Chapter 4

Several hours later, just before dawn, Emma awoke suddenly and sat bolt upright in bed, clutching her chest. "Leo," she panted. She frantically reached for him.

Leo awoke, groggy from the few short hours of rest. "Hmm?" he uttered, rubbing his eyes.

"My chest. Hurts." Emma couldn't catch her breath. Leo was instantly awake.

"What? Your chest? What's wrong?"

"I don't. Know. Chest hurts. Breathing. Hard," Emma struggled to say.

"Hospital," Leo decided.

Emma shook her head no. She didn't have time to be sick. She had a math quiz on Monday, and more Latin vocab to memorize, and that lit paper wasn't going to write itself.

"But Emma, you can't breathe. That's kind of, like, important. I really think you need medical attention."

Dammit, he had a point. Emma resigned herself to an ER trip and let Leo lead her to his car.

They made excellent time driving to the hospital, and within an hour Emma was in a small ER room at Ocean Park Hospital. The doctors were running some tests, and Emma seemed calmer, her breathing easier. A kind nurse informed Emma that she would be admitted and taken to a room soon.

" 'Soon' in hospital-speak means sometime before the end of this century," Leo joked, attempting to elicit a smile from Emma. She had barely said a word since her arrival. Leo had filled the doctors and nurses in regarding her medical history as best he could. Emma remained indifferent to his humor and stayed on her side facing the wall.

"Will you be okay if I step outside to make a few phone calls?" he asked.

Her barely audible "I guess" wasn't exactly confidence-inspiring, but it was something.

"I'll be fast," he promised.

Leo swiftly made his way outside and called the one person he knew could help in this situation. Despite the early hour, that person answered on the first ring.

"Well, if it isn't the one-legged wonder, the three-limbed threat, the - "

Leo cut in. "Dash, we have a situation with Emma. It's bad. I need you to gather the other Red Banders and meet me at OPH ASAP."

"Whoa. It must be bad if you're resorting to acronyms. I'm on it."

"Thanks, man. I knew I could count on you."

"You know, we should devise some sort of bat signal for these circumstances," Dash continued, but Leo had already hung up.

Leo returned to Emma's room, and Dash began making phone calls.

First Dash called Kara. "Might as well start with everybody's favorite blonde," he thought to himself.

"Dash, even the gardener isn't up yet. What do you want?" Kara answered curtly.

"Greetings to you, too," Dash said. "Didn't your moms ever teach you to politely answer the phone?"

"Oh, please. My manners are cotillion-ready. For those who deserve them, that is."

"Listen, normally I'd love to hash this out, but we have more important matters at hand."

"I'm listening," Kara said.

"Emma's not doing well. Leo wants the Red Banders together for support."

"What, no group text?"

Dash chose to ignore her snark. "Two hours. Ocean Park. Be there."

"And why should I go back to that hellhole?"

Dash could not believe her insensitivity. "Because your friends need you. Because you've been there, you've lived this. Your friendship matters."

Kara disagreed. "They are not my friends. Never were, never will be."

"You know that's not true, Kara," Dash countered. "If you could open that plug-n-play heart of yours – no – of Hunter's – for one minute, then you'd know that we are the best friends you've ever had. Right?"

After a brief silence, Kara said, "Fine. But if there is even the slightest hint that Leo is going to massacre another Shakespearean monologue, I'm so outie, okay?"

"No Shakespeare. Got it. What are your feelings towards Marlowe?"

"Ugh, Dash." Exasperated, she hung up and readied for a trip back to Ocean Park.

Next Dash called Charlie. "Charlie, little dude, I'm sorry to call so early. You awake?"

"Ha ha, Dash. Yes, Coma Boy is awake."

"Oh, my bad, man. That wasn't supposed to be a coma joke," Dash apologized.

"No worries! I haven't talked to you for, like, a year! How are you?"

"Good, man. I'm good. But Emma's not. We're having a reunion, Red Band style. She needs our support."

"I'm there," Charlie said without hesitation. "When?"

"Two hours. Ocean Park. Thanks, Chuck."

"Of course, Dash. See you soon."

"See you."

Dash fleetingly considered that Jordi was next to call, but then he remembered. Still hard to get used to. "Ocean Park, here I come," he said. "Damn."


	5. Chapter 5

A few hours later Leo felt his phone vibrate. He carefully removed his hand from Emma's, trying not to wake her. It was a text from Dash. "We here. Where r u?" Leo texted him back Emma's room number and "sleeping" so the others would know to stay quiet. Within minutes the Red Banders would be reunited – a good thing, but for a bad reason.

The four gathered around Emma's bed, talking quietly.

"What happened?" Charlie asked.

Leo recounted the past night's events. "The doctors said her electrolytes are off and she is dehydrated. They're going to keep her here overnight and either release her or admit her to psych, depending on the psychiatrist's evaluation."

"Shit, man," Dash lamented. "How'd we let this happen? Last I heard she was killing it in college."

"Last I heard, she _was_ killing it in college," Leo said. "But that's the problem: 'last I heard.' Before last night, I hadn't talked with her – or any of you – in a year, since..."

"Yeah," Kara whispered, looking away and blinking hard.

"We haven't been very good friends to each other, have we?" Charlie observed. The others nodded solemnly in agreement.

A nurse entered and asked the group to leave while she tended to Emma. They wandered down to a waiting room at the end of the hall.

"Guys, I'll be back," Leo announced, and walked toward the elevators.

When Leo returned about fifteen minutes later, Charlie was outside making a phone call, Kara was in with Emma, and Dash was sitting on the floor by Emma's door.

"Where you been, man?" Dash asked Leo.

"Cafeteria. I got some water," Leo answered, holding up a bottle.

"No, you know what I mean. Why did you pull a Bobby Fischer and go AWOL after Jordi –"

Leo interrupted Dash. "Died? After Jordi died?"

Dash didn't respond, just looked at Leo expectantly. So Leo awkwardly slid down the wall across from him and began.

"After the drug trial, when I was in remission, and Jordi was in remission, and Kara and Charlie were healthy, and you were..."

"And I was satisfied with my choice," Dash supplied.

"Yeah, and you were home and doing your thing, and even Emma seemed to be doing well –"

"She was doing well. This is a setback, yes, but she'll be well again."

"Right, totally," Leo nodded. "So everyone was moving on, being 'normal,' living life. And things were good among us. We texted, got together when we could, whatever." He paused. "But then Jordi relapsed."

"You were a good friend to him to the end, Leo. He knew that. We all did."

"He fought so hard, you know? I really thought that if anyone could make it, he could. He was just that strong."

"Absolutely. J-man was a beast," Dash agreed.

"So why didn't he make it? Why did he die and I didn't?" Leo wondered.

Dash got quiet for a minute. "Some things are impossible to know," he finally said. "Any one of us could die. And eventually all of us _will_ die. It's the nature of life."

"I know, Dash. And you're right. You always are," Leo said with a sigh, throwing his hands up in defeat.

Dash was on a roll. He continued, "We have to live our best life while we can."

Leo snickered, lightening the mood. "Been watching OWN again? Nurse Brittany would be proud."

"You and I both know that Oprah's advice is timeless. Now let's go check on Emma. She's been alone with Kara, and right now we're supposed to make her _want_ to live."

Dash stood up and extended his hand to Leo, who grabbed it and used it to pull himself up. Then the two friends embraced. "Thanks, man," Leo said, turning toward Emma's door. "Let's rescue our fair maiden from the clutches of the evil dragon."

They found Emma awake and staring at the ceiling. Kara was sitting by the window, playing with her phone. "The reception here sucks," she complained. "Oh, well. It's not like there's anything Instagram-worthy in this prison cell anyway."

Then Charlie entered and said, "I saw Mr. and Mrs. Chota at the nurse's station, talking with a doctor. They want to see Emma but agreed to let us have a few more minutes with her." Emma groaned at this news. The last people she wanted to see right now were her parents. She didn't know if she had the strength to deal with their questions and concern.

Leo looked around the hospital room at the others. He nodded his head as if to indicate something should begin.


	6. Chapter 6

Charlie stepped to the foot of Emma's bed and began speaking. "We know you're struggling, Emma. We've been in your shoes. We know how tough it is. During my coma, I thought I'd go crazy from boredom. But just when I thought I couldn't take it anymore, one of you would come and visit, or my dad would play a song, or someone would wave pizza in my face." He looked directly at Kara and smiled.

"Hey, you ASKED me to do that. I maintain that it, though medically unsupported, could have been successful," Kara said defensively.

"Absolutely," Charlie grinned. "The point is, by myself I was without hope. But with all of you," he gestured around the room, "I had hope. I had a way out. You were there for me, and now is my chance to be there for you. Because you are my friends."

"Thank you, Charlie," Emma said. "But I don't need a pep talk."

"Well, you're getting one," Kara said as she took Charlie's place at the end of the bed.

"I know about daily struggles. Dash and I both do," she said, turning towards him. "We know about the weight of a condition that will never go away, about the constant-ness of a burden you wouldn't wish on your worst enemy. Dash and I take medicines every day just to stay alive. Our lives are forever altered by our conditions. And this is what I've learned: you can't think in terms of the rest of your life. It's too much to comprehend; it's overwhelming. You have to think about one day at a time. One day, then one more day, then one more day, and soon you're stringing days together to form the rest of your life. Some days are easier than others. Some days are a real bitch. Some days you want to quit. We get that. We've all been there. But you know what? You can do it. You're stronger than you think."

The rest of the group looked on, agog at the wisdom pouring forth from the usually-shallow Kara.

She concluded, "You don't have to fight for the rest of your life. You just have to do it for today."

The others looked at each other, unsure of what to say. Emma just sat with her mouth hanging open slightly, somewhat in awe of Kara.

Dash decided to break the silence. "What kind of one-day-at-a-time, hi-my-name-is-Dash bullshit is that?" he joked.

"What?" said Kara defensively. "I saw Dr. Drew tell some has-been rocker that on _Celebrity Rehab_. And _he_ stayed clean for months."

Leo and Charlie snickered. _There_ was the Kara they knew and loved.

Emma continued to stare at Kara, incredulous. What she said actually helped, actually made her feel just the tiniest bit better. Though her struggle likely would never go away, she had to face each day as it came.

Dash's turn was short. "Don't give up, Emma. Keep fightin' the good fight. And we'll be right there next to you. Life is worth it." With that he spun around and looked at Leo. "End of speech. Billy Graham, you're up."

Just then a familiar face popped through the door. "I thought I smelled trouble," the infamous Nurse Jackson said with a smile.

Dash muttered under his breath, "I haven't lit up in days! Nurse Scary has the nose of a hungry bloodhound."

"Why are you all here?" Nurse Jackson asked, entering the room.

"I'm here for the five-star cuisine," Leo said sarcastically.

"I'm here to meet hot, eligible doctors," Kara said not as sarcastically.

"I missed the smell," Charlie deadpanned.

"Mattress evaluation," added Emma, patting the bed. The others chuckled at her answer. It was good to hear her joking.

"Ah, the fair maiden's sense of humor is intact," Dash noted.

"Well, it's wonderful to see all of you," the nurse said sincerely, giving each one a warm hug.

"Emma, you're not on my floor, but I'll come check on you before I head home tonight, okay, honey?"

Emma nodded, glad to have a familiar face amid the sterility of the hospital.

As Nurse Jackson left, Charlie said grandly, "Leo, I believe it is your turn to inspire our dear Emma."

"Keep it short, please," Kara said bitingly. "Some of us have lives."

"You can play music if I go too long," Leo told her.

"Don't think I won't," Kara assured him, tapping her phone.

Leo assumed Dash's place. "Emma," he began. "You know you much we love you."

Emma gave a tiny nod.

"And you know we're all rooting for you. We want you better so you can continue your path to greatness at NASA or CERN or wherever."

Another nod and a glimmer of a smile from Emma.

"But you can't do that without hope. As long as you have hope, you can survive almost anything. When they found spots on my lungs, and Dr. McAndrew said they were inoperable, I thought I was sunk. But then I entered the drug trial, and I had hope. Would this drug work? Would I go back into remission? I didn't know. But I had a chance. And Emma, you've got to have hope that life will get better. A wise person once told me, 'You can't run away from your life. It's yours and it's precious. You just have to claim it.' "

"NJ all the way," Charlie observed.

"You know it. In conclusion, 'Hope is a thing with feathers, That perches in the soul, And sings the tune' –"

"You promised no Shakespeare!" Kara screeched, crossing her arms.

"Pretty sure that's my girl Dickinson," Dash corrected.

"Well, look who paid attention in English class," Kara snarked.

"Some of us enjoy reading something other than _US Weekly_." Leo dished it right back at her.

The room got quiet. Emma, grateful for the wisdom her friends shared, said haltingly, "Wow, guys, uh, thanks I guess. I appreciate the effort you put into coming here and talking with me. It helped, it really did."

The friends smiled at each other.

"What would Jordi say to encourage you?" Charlie wondered aloud.

"He'd probably sing something," Emma guessed. "I miss his singing."

Everyone nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, J-man was the best. I miss taking his money during our marathon poker games," Dash said quietly.

"He was a great roommate. Had excellent taste in movies and music," Leo added.

Charlie said, "I miss him sharing his abuela's awesome Mexican dinners. That lady can make some tostadas."

"Ugh," Kara huffed. "You guys are such Pollyannas. How about all the shady stuff Jordi did? Like when he lied about his mom? Or Leo, how about when he tried to get with Emma? Or when he PUNCHED you? Remember all of that?" Kara spit out.

"You choose what to remember, Kara. And I choose to remember the good," Leo said quietly but fiercely.

Kara retorted, "And I choose to remember reality!"

"Kara, girl," Dash began, "you of all people should hope we remember your good."

"Touche," Kara admitted with a shrug of her shoulders.

"Guys, our time is almost up," Charlie reminded the group. "Emma's parents will be here soon."

"No goodbyes," Leo instructed, ever the leader. "Only see-you-laters, okay?"

The others nodded and began to embrace each other.

"And we stay in touch this time. We don't let another year go by without seeing each other," Emma added.

"But no more lame-ass hospital reunions. Next time we do it up right, meet somewhere more hip," Dash put forth.

"More hip than a hospital? What, like a dentist's office?" joked Charlie.

"Or a car wash!" Kara quipped.

"Or a paint factory," Emma chimed in.

"Or my grandparent's basement," Leo added.

"You guys are impossible!" Dash said, shaking his head. "No sense of culture, of setting. Setting is five-eighths of a good story."

"Oh, really?" Leo questioned sarcastically as the group began walking towards the door. "Do tell us more, Professor Hosney."

Dash prattled on about ambiance and mood as the Red Band Society exited Emma's room. She knew she'd see them again, some sooner than others, some more frequently than others. For example, she knew she'd see Leo again in a few minutes, as he'd left his phone by her bed. But she knew that no matter what, she had four of the best friends a girl could ask for. And that meant everything. Hope, indeed.


End file.
